Just Say Yes, Already
by lost-in-pemberley
Summary: One simple date -that's all he wanted really. But you don't just agree to one date with Draco Malfoy without asking a few questions and raising a few eyebrows.
1. The Past Is A Foreign Country

**Prologue**

"_Five days since you laughed at me saying 'Get that together, come back and see me,'.  
Three days since the living room. I realised it's all my fault but couldn't tell you.  
Yesterday, you'd forgiven me but it'll still be two days until I say I'm sorry."_

_-Barenaked Ladies 'One Week'_

_

* * *

_

Three years changes a man.

Three years ago, his hair had been overgrown and messy, his dress sense was nonexistent and he could live off his surroundings for as long as a month.

But now, his hair was trimmed and tidy, his suits pressed, his shoes shined and the thought of sleeping outdoors made him feel queasy.

But one thing had remained stubbornly and fixedly unchanged.

He was still in love with the same girl.

Three years ago, he'd made a mistake, something he usually wasn't willing to atone for but he was here, on her doorstep, roses in hand and fist poised, ready to lay his heart at her feet.

Love.

A concept he was unashamedly reproachful of.

Maybe it was all his parental issues; his father and mother never quite showed the desired amount of affection when he was a child. Or maybe, the tales of love his friends would bring him also brought a sense of woe and despair; there was nothing to gain from it, just an overwhelming sense of loss and depression.

Well, he wasn't about to sit around and wait for that to happen to him.

He went out of his way to avoid love, to avoid feeling those emotions that would ultimately spell heartache and instead, broke as many hearts, in as many different destinations of the world as he could. Paris, London, New York, the women were all the same to him, to be toyed with at his leisure. Of course, he'd taken every precaution. Never left even a trace of his identity and instead, disappeared into the background of the city.

Sure, there were times when he felt bad about it; he wasn't completely heartless. But he'd remind himself that it was better than being on the receiving end.

As a child, he'd always wondered why people married. Marriage, at the young impressionable age of twelve had seemed like a tedious way of ensuring one got what he wanted. To his twelve year old mind, it seemed tediously unnecessary.

But everything was susceptible to change and as his fist landed dully on her front door, he found himself wanting more than anything for her to just say yes already.

* * *

Once upon a time, she'd been the type of girl who knew what she wanted but three years later, she was still no closer to realising what she wanted as Harry was to taming his hair.

Three years ago, she thought she was going to marry the man of her dreams, start a family and live happily ever after. But now, the idea seemed stupid. Why was she so eager to start a family? Why was it imperative that she have children and become a submissive housewife?

Hermione Granger was many things. But she was not submissive.

* * *

Draco Malfoy knocked loudly three times and felt his heart rate speed to superhuman proportions. The flowers he'd picked out seemed awfully stupid, the tie he was wearing seemed too bright and mismatched and his shoes were too shiny and corporate.

He heard shuffling and his palms started to sweat, gripping the bouquet tighter. The lock was scraped back and with a soft whine, the door opened slowly.

"What are you doing here?"

He gulped. "I'm here to apologise."

* * *

Hermione folded herself into the armchair and realised that he wasn't going to apologise; unfortunately, the realisation was years too late.

He was an arrogant, immodest prat.

And, well, she knew all that.

Was it a wonder he broke her heart?

* * *

_Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K Rowling. Please don't sue me. I'm too poor for that._

_Yes, new story! I was supposed to take a break. But then this idea sort of starting forming in my head. It took a while for me to write it down but I finally got there._

_Bit short, I know. My bad. A super thank you to Lauren (Hysteria and Chaos) for beta-ing!_

_Are you ready for a new adventure?_


	2. Saints Are Sinners Who Keep Going

**Chapter One**

"_Once upon a time, I believe it was a Tuesday, when I caught __your eye__."_

_-Taylor Swift 'Forever and Always'_

_

* * *

_

In her opinion, Tuesdays were the worst day of the week. Just after the bustle of Monday and the relaxation of Wednesday; Tuesday was the day that everything had to be done. Work and schedule had to be followed and taking things easier wasn't an option.

Tuesday morning, the heel of her best work heels -sensible and not too extravagant- broke off. It separated from the shoe as she was stepping out of the grate of the ministry's fireplace. Her left leg decided to do a little unladylike skid and her right leg decided it was perfectly fine exactly where it was, thank you very much.

What resulted was an undignified heap on the ground and bits of paper and parchment scattered around her. It should have been her first sign, really. At that point, she should have just called it a day and left for the comfort of her home.

But she'd come this far and so, with as much dignity and pride she could summon, she collected her things, fixed her heel and strode to the nearest elevator. She was aware of every eye on her and she felt her ears turn hot but quickly ducked into the crowded box, a few notes flying in after her.

The elevator was cramped and silent, all the occupants waiting for their floor.

Someone sniggered.

Hermione looked in the direction of the snigger.

"Well, your performance in the atrium was certainly entertaining."

"Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

He grinned like a madman at her. "I work here, Granger," he said slowly, as if talking to a three year old.

She clamped her mouth shut as the elevator announced level four and a small group stepped out. To her horror and mortification, Malfoy followed her out.

"What are you doing on Level Four, Malfoy?"

"As aforementioned, I work here."

She spun to face him. "Actually, if I stand corrected, you work on Level Nine, Department of Mysteries. In case it has escaped your terribly small brain, this is Level Four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

He looked amused. "Still retained some of that wit from Hogwarts, Hermione?"

She rolled her eyes and stalked quickly towards her office.

She was hoping he'd leave her alone and was fully planning on closing the door on him. Unfortunately, it wasn't her lucky day and he strode in purposefully, with his chest held high.

"What are you doing in my office?"

"So, Granger, still seeing that weasel?"

"If you mean Ron, then I don't see how that is any of your business."

"Touchy on a Tuesday morning. I was only wondering, is all."

"What do you want? I'm an incredibly busy person."

"Granger, I'd like you to have dinner with me on Friday night."

Thankfully she was turned away from him at the time otherwise he would have seen her eyes turn the size of Dobby's and her mouth fall open. She managed to collect herself in time and turned to stare into his grinning face.

"Sorry, I can't. I'm extremely busy."

"When are you available?"

Damn, now she couldn't just fob him off with excuses about her hectic schedule.

"How about I give you a call when that happens?"

When hell freezes over, Malfoy, she added in her head.

"How about you just save me the trouble of harassing your secretary for your schedule and we can be on our merry way?"

Now, her suspicion was beginning to expand exponentially. What was he after? As far as she knew, Malfoy didn't usually waltz into people's offices and ask them for a night out. A date, Hermione, that's what they're called. Sure, it'd been so long and Ron was just a _friend, _for Christ's sake, but even she knew what was and was not socially correct.

"Henrietta would never divulge such information."

"Oh? Willing to try me?"

"Malfoy, leave me alone." Her patience wore thin. "If you have something you require my assistance with, please ask. If not, close the door on your way out."

He raised an eyebrow. "See you around, Granger."

I sure hope not, she though and as he left, she made sure he was well and truly gone before telling Henrietta to, under no circumstances, give the man her schedule.

* * *

She didn't see or hear from him again until the following Tuesday.

Arriving at work on time, she clutched her files and stepped into an elevator.

The journey to Level Four was completely normal and as she stepped out, a few notes zoomed out after her, making a beeline for their recipients. A green sheet flew before her into her office but before she could snatch it up and read it, she noticed the giant bouquet of flowers, sitting innocently on her desk.

Henrietta looked pleased with herself as she stepped in to greet her. "Good morning!"

"Good morning," Hermione mumbled back. "Who are these from?"

"I've no idea." Henrietta was still smiling and it made Hermione feel like she knew exactly who they were from.

Picking up the small pink card tucked into the wrapping, she unfolded it.

_Have dinner with me this Saturday night? I know you're available._

She frowned. "Henrietta, did you-"

But the girl was already gone, staring intently at a thick tome, completely in concentration out at her desk.

The green note fluttered to her attention and she plucked it from the air.

_Just say yes, already._

Taking the note, she scrunched it up and threw it into her trashcan. The flowers, all yellows and reds and pinks and oranges, she placed on her windowsill and tried to forget about.

She thought about it all day. At one point, she was even going to agree to him! That part, that curiosity, had grabbed a hold of her and was reluctant to let go and some twisted part of her wanted to go and see what would happen.

Of course, sensible Hermione reeled herself in and had a strong word.

She shouldn't agree. People like him didn't just ask out people like her. People like him probably do it for a laugh at people like hers' expense. And people like her shouldn't go to dinner with people like him.

Laughing to herself, she rolled her eyes and began to look over the latest pile of work.

* * *

"So Granger, what's the answer?"

She almost dropped the mug of tea in her hand at the voice floating from her fireplace.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, glad she was already dressed.

"It's been an entire week since I sent the flowers and you're avoiding me."

She slipped her shoes on. "I am not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to leave for work." A folder of paper was placed in one arm, her bag slung over another and her wand tucked into her robes as she pinched some floo powder.

"So if you'd kindly get out of my fireplace."

"Are you in a rush? Have a chat with me, Hermione. How have you been?"

"Busy," she replied shortly, huffing. "Are you going to get out of my fireplace?"

"I think I'm quite comfortable here," Malfoy grinned, flashing his perfect teeth.

"Fine," Hermione snapped and apparated out of her living room.

* * *

Around lunchtime, a note zoomed into her office.

_How about lunch then?_

She had to give him points for his relentlessness. Scrunching the small yellow note in her palm, she called to Henrietta.

"Don't disturb me please, Henrietta, I'm not taking lunch."

The note made its way into the bin as Henrietta nodded and closed her office door.

"And if Malfoy turns up, make sure you don't let him in. Under any circumstances."

She was taking the avoidance thing a little too far she knew, but extreme precautions had to be taken when dealing with Malfoy. It was hard to tell what his cheekily gray eyes were really conveying sometimes and ever since the war, she'd learnt that trusting the wrong sort of people was a disastrous thing to fall prey to.

Sure, curiosity was still there, burning a hole in the lining of her stomach but rationality kept it at bay and she started to process more paperwork.

For extra precaution, she cast a locking spell to keep unwanted visitors at bay.

* * *

It was nearing six when she finally stumbled out of her office, bleary eyed and a little disoriented and tired. Her bag was slung over her shoulder and files of parchment in the other. Henrietta had left an hour ago, some date she was going on tonight, and Hermione felt slightly jealous of her –she hadn't had a date in eons and her love life was so non-existent, Lucius Malfoy would befriend Hagrid before anything was to happen in that department.

"So, working late Granger?"

"Malfoy, would you please stop stalking me?"

The blond chuckled. "With wit and humour like that, how can I cease?"

"What do you want from me?" She was tired, she was hungry and she was not in the mood for his joking.

"Just one date, Hermione –what could possibly go wrong?"

"Are you insane? Up until now, I had thought this whole thing was a joke but you're clearly suffering from some sort of delusion. No, I will not go on a date with you. Please, leave me alone."

She started to walk down the hallway but he was annoyingly still present.

"How about lunch? Or we could just have a few drinks?"

She stepped into the elevator and they fell silent as the extra people brought further awkwardness.

A few floors of silence later and they stepped out into the atrium.

"Why are you doing this to me? I remember you used to hate me and I never particularly liked you either; you can't possibly have feelings for me or something, right?"

"I just want to be friends, Granger."

She scoffed. "Friends? Right. What is it really? Some sort of bet? Someone put you up to it? See if you could befriend me for a laugh?" She stalked towards an empty fireplace.

"Why are you so bitter, Granger? You're always so quick to jump to conclusions."

"Malfoy, I'm going to tell you once more: stop asking me. You're only wasting your breath and my time. Have a good evening." She stepped into the grate, threw some floo powder and enunciated her address.

When her figure had swirled out of the fireplace, Draco watched the flames for an extra second before stepping into it and disappearing in a swirl of green flames.

* * *

Crookshanks greeted her as she stumbled out of her own fireplace. The orange cat twirled around her legs, looking upwards expectantly and mewing softly.

"The only male who genuinely wants my company," she laughed. "And even then, you're probably just hungry."

She dumped her files and her bag and walked slowly into the kitchen.

Why did Malfoy want a date with her so much?

Over the years, they'd managed to stay out of each other's paths. Even then, the rumours surrounding him circulated –he was charming to the women and popular with the men and it was inevitable that people would talk about him.

But Hermione had tried to pay as little attention to him as possible and instead, got on with her work and her life.

Harry and Ron had both joined the ranks of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as soon as they could and their lives seemed to be one fast-paced adventure after the other. Harry was currently on assignment in the forests of Transylvania and in Hermione's mind, she liked to think he was off conquering some form of evil threatening humankind. In her mind, Harry was always saving the world, no matter where he was. Ginny, whom he had married at the first chance he could, would disagree with Hermione, of course, especially when it came to doing the dishes but they both knew it was true; if it weren't for Harry Potter, who knew what kind of disarray the wizarding world would be in.

Ron, at the current moment, was attempting to spend as much time with his family as possible before his next adventure. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that he was seeing someone but any investigation into the matter, Ron would just laugh off.

"Don't be silly," he'd tell her, "I don't have time for a girlfriend."

"Right," Hermione laughed and exchanged looks with Ginny.

It seemed everyone was moving on with their lives, getting somewhere with their relationships and careers. Sure, Hermione's career was expanding exponentially thanks to her prolific heroine status but the longest relationship she had with a male, to date, was with Crookshanks.

The cat wound itself around her legs again, reminding her with a soft push and Hermione poured food into a small bowl.

"You probably only stick around because I feed you."

Crookshanks purred as he crunched on his meal happily.

* * *

"So, you asked her for a date?"

Draco nodded. "I did."

"And?" Her eyes were expectant and her breath held in anticipation.

He rolled his eyes. "Mother, she wants nothing to do with me. As expected."

Narcissa was quiet for a moment. "You must be doing something wrong."

"Why can't I just pursue someone else? Even that idiot Lavender Brown or one of the Patil twins?"

"Draco, you need someone with a high profile –no other woman has a higher profile than Hermione Granger right now."

Draco looked over towards his father. "Father, tell her this plan is ridiculous."

Lucius Malfoy glanced up from his book. "Do whatever has to be done, boy."

"Can't I do whatever has to be done with someone else?"

Narcissa frowned and pursed her lips. "Draco, you will do as I tell you. And you will succeed.

* * *

___Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K Rowling. Please don't sue me. I'm too poor for that._

___So hello again! Thanks to all those who reviewed! My grand total of three reviewers ____(FOREVER ALONE FACE)____._

___Sorry this took so long -I had to have my computer reformatted. Isn't that a pain? And I was doing so well -almost a year without having to reformat._

___Thankfully most of my things were backed up and I could continue with this little chapter with little interruption._

___Hope you enjoyed!_

___Thanks to Tia for beta-ing._

___Love, Starky._

___P.S Anyone else on here addicted to Tumblr? This site is just about taking over my life. Link in profile if you find me stalk-worthy ;)_


	3. Be Very Nervous Of The Shaky Hands

**Chapter Two**

"_I know you're lying to me 'cause your palms start to sweat and your knees are getting heavy."_

_-Amy Meredith 'Lying'

* * *

_

Weeks and weeks later, Hermione had forgotten about the incident and it was pushed into the farthest corners of her mind. She concentrated on work –a particularly time consuming case about a group of Goblins and their pet Hippogriff –and forgot about Draco Malfoy and his strange and completely irrational behaviour.

That is, until another bouquet of roses showed up on her desk.

_Have lunch with me, Granger._

It was in his own handwriting this time, neat and thin, and she felt doom suddenly unload itself upon her. Just when she thought the man was finally moving along from this little joke, the cold hard hand of reality came around and slapped her for good measure. The note was crushed in her hand once again and dropped into the waste basket.

Around noon, when she'd ignored his flowers and note, a white note zoomed into her office followed by about twenty others. They all hovered around her head as she watched them in horror.

_Have lunch with me._

_Dinner?_

_How about a few drinks?_

_Even a Muggle cafe._

_Or just a walk._

_I can walk you home._

Every individual note carried a different request and she realised that he was slowly going to drive her insane. He'd clearly forgotten about his previously subtle and calm approach and was now going to hound her relentlessly for a date.

As she was throwing the first twenty into the bin, another twenty flew in, swirling around her head, all waiting to be opened.

It was around two in the afternoon and the notes were becoming more and more ridiculous.

_I'll take you for a ride on a Hippogriff._

_We can go parasailing in Brazil._

_I'll accompany you to Barcelona._

The final straw:

_We can do ridiculous Muggle things._

Throwing them into the already overflowing bin, she marched out of her office.

"Hermione, I tried to stop all the notes but they were so persistent!"

She ignored Henrietta and strode quickly towards the elevator. The wait wasn't long and she stepped into the box. It was like the occupants could feel the wrath emanating from the bushy haired woman and shrunk away from her, afraid.

Disembarking at Level Nine, she realised that she had no idea where Malfoy's office was but the detail didn't stop her from striding into the Rotating Room at the entrance to the Department of Mysteries.

The movement of the room revolving wasn't enough to jolt her out of her anger and when the room stopped turning, she opened a door at random and slammed through it.

The room she'd stumbled into was quickly identified as the Brain Room where many unusual and gruesome shapes were kept in jars and tanks. Things bubbled and bathed in yellow water under strange lights and Hermione, unnerved by the reminders of her time in the place, hurried towards the closest door. It was then that she allowed her anger to die down a little and instead, assessed the situation. She was in the Department of Mysteries and the last few times she'd been in here, it was with an Unspeakable who knew his way around. The layout was quite simple –she needed to get to the offices. To get there, she needed to find the Time Room. Opening a door to her right, her eyes struggled to adjust to the light and she whispered a quick 'Lumos'. Light from the end of the wand lit up and in the distance, she saw the veil in which Sirius fell into. She suppressed the memory and quickly crossed to a door on the adjacent wall. Opening it, she cast one last look at the veil and left the room.

She was in the Time Room –the dancing blue light was indication and the large bell jar stood at the end of the narrow hallway. Images of that Death Eater who'd fallen in emerged; his head growing and then shrinking at an alarming pace. She noted that the Time Turners were all restored and sat in their places accordingly.

Finally, she heard voices.

The entirety of her visit so far was strangely devoid of other human contact and the voices were quite welcome.

"Well, I hear the latest intern in the Brain Room had to be taken into St. Mungo's because those giant brains attacked again. A hazard they are," a cloaked wizard and his female associate stared at Hermione as she stopped in front of them.

"Can I help you?" the blonde witch sniffed.

"Yes. Could you point me in the direction of Draco Malfoy's office please?"

The wizard exchanged a look with the witch. "It's the seventh door to your left."

She nodded. "Thank you." And started walking down the hallway.

"Was that Hermione Granger?" she heard the witch whisper.

"I think so."

"Wonder what she's going _here?_"

The seventh door was closed but she couldn't hear voices behind it.

She knocked once.

There was no answer.

She tried again but with no answer, she slowly opened the door.

His office was neat and tidy with minimal ornamentation. Her own desk was cluttered with photographs and newspaper clippings and his was annoyingly clean, devoid of any personal artefacts. The only thing that could be counted as personal was a small photo frame. In it was a photo of Draco with his parents. They looked coldly up at her as she found herself staring at them. They stood with such pride and austerity –their robes were unnervingly neat, their hair perfectly sculpted and their expressions synchronised.

"What are you doing in my office?"

She hadn't realised how far she'd actually walked into his office until she turned to see him at the doorway, a smirk on his features.

Draco had been summoned into another Unspeakable's office for consulting purposes and when he returned, he had noticed the door to his office ajar. His irritation grew until he saw who was in his room.

The smirk felt good on his face after so long without reason to.

"You finally came to your senses then?"

Hermione boiled over. "You." Her eyes narrowed. A handful of notes were thrown onto his desk. "You sent me over a hundred notes in the past two hours."

He shrugged. "I'm persistent."

"You're annoying and arrogant."

"So what's your answer then?"

"Hell will freeze over first before I say yes."

"Well then, get your coats ready," he grinned.

The look she threw him was murderous. "Stop harassing me. If you send me one more note, I will not be held responsible for my actions. And if you're thinking about providing the Malfoy's with an heir, I strongly suggest you stay away from me."

"Touchy, Granger. Come on, why are you so against me? It's just a date."

Because I don't know your ulterior motives! She wanted to scream at him but instead, she growled, "It's not going to happen. Now, I realise we are both adult and can look past our schoolyard differences of blood status. But I completely refuse to date you; you're the polar opposite to everything I stand for. Can you imagine bringing up children with a father like you? Or sending our children to Hogwarts with your reputation?"

Malfoy looked genuinely affronted. "Granger, it's a date. We're not getting _married. _Will you stop getting ahead of yourself? It's absurd."

Hermione clamped her mouth shut and felt a blush creeping up her neck. "Look," she tried to regain her previous composure. "The point is, stop hassling me. Otherwise, I will have to take much more extremist approaches."

Giving him another glare, she pushed past him out of his office.

"Granger!" he called after her but she ignored him, pushing past back towards the Time Room.

She heard his footsteps thumping behind her but she found the door and pushed it open, hoping he'd get the message. Through the Time Room, the orbs glinting enticingly at her, and into the darkly lit chamber.

"Hermione!" she heard as she closed the door. The darkness swallowed her but she didn't dare light up her wand. Moving towards where she thought the adjacent door was located, she couldn't resist a glance towards the veil and the platform.

Immediately, her mind conjured the memories subconsciously. She thought back to Sirius' expression as he fell into the veil; the sound of pure agony that followed from Harry; the weeks of torment that he put himself through afterwards.

She thought back to her own family, her mother and father who had yet to be found. The last she'd heard, they were somewhere in Australia, with no recollection that they had a daughter who was missing them every moment of every day.

"Hermione," she heard a voice in her ear. So absorbed in her recollections, she'd completely abandoned her fleeing and had stopped. Draco Malfoy's bright eyes glinted at her.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she whispered to him.

"I'm making sure you don't get lost. It's easy to lose yourself in the Department of Mysteries."

"No kidding," she mumbled, knowing that wasn't the answer she was looking for.

He slowly led her by the elbow back towards the direction she'd come and pushed the door open.

"This room always gives me the shivers."

"What's it called?"

He paused. "It's called the Death Chamber."

Hermione felt a shiver. "Imaginative bunch you are, aren't you?"

His hand left her elbow and she noticed they were back in the Time Room. Not giving her any time to admire the time turners and the bell jar, he steered her towards a door at the end of the room. Behind it was the circular room and as soon as the door closed behind the pair, he spoke again.

"What have you got against me?"

She didn't answer for a long time; instead watched the doors turn past her. The room stopped moving and Malfoy moved towards a door that looked identical to the others. The only difference was when opened, the door showed to be the exit.

He opened the door for her and she glowered as she marched into the corridor.

To her complete surprise, he followed her.

"Why are you following me?" she demanded as the elevators swam into view.

"I'm merely escorting you."

The walk was silent and the only sound came from her shoes clicking softly down the hall.

"I don't need an escort," she said finally as she stood waiting in front of an elevator.

"I know." He said, a smirk playing on his face.

"Then why are you here?"

He shrugged. "Hoping you'll say yes."

The elevator door pinged and the door slid open. Hermione moved into it, raising both her eyebrows at him. "I hope you like waiting forever."

The door closed on his bemused expression and Hermione caught the beginning of a smile forming on his lips.

Draco stood on the other side and stared at the closed door for an extra second.

Game on.

* * *

The next bouquet didn't arrive until three days later.

Peonies. Pink peonies. One little note.

_Just have dinner with me._

Instead of feeling irritated, there was a strange swirling sense of delight at the flowers.

She was _pleased. _It was sick and twisted but she was pleased that he'd sent her flowers.

The correct emotion was instead shown by Henrietta.

"Oh, peonies!" she sighed, inhaling their fragrance. "I love peonies." She glanced at Hermione. "Who keeps sending you flowers?"

Hermione gave a nervous chucked and instead of answering, moved the flowers towards her windowsill next to the previous offerings.

"Oh, just someone from another office."

"Is it Ron Weasley?"

Hermione genuinely laughed at that. "No, it's definitely not Ron."

"Is it-"

Hermione cut her off. "Henrietta, can you send a note to the Minister regarding the Hippogriff case, please? I really must speak with him."

Henrietta nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.

The flowers were forgotten as a note flew into the room. Hermione plucked it from the air but instead of an obnoxious demand for a date, it was a note from Ron.

_Hermione, I have to meet with you at lunch._

She frowned for a moment, trying to figure out what possible reason Ron had with her.

Perhaps he had run into Lavender again? She hadn't really taken their break up well. Or was it Millicent? Maybe Pansy?

While Harry had remained loyal to one girl and Hermione's love life had collapsed within itself, Ron seemed to be dating a different person every few weeks, making his way through the Gryffindor girls in less than six months and the Hufflepuff's in less than seven. It had become a difficult task keeping up with his relationships and his missions that sometimes, Hermione would just ignore him because it was just so _tiring _keeping up with him.

By the time lunch time slipped around, Hermione had run through her fair share of possible scenarios and had drawn up nothing –she couldn't find a single thing of such urgency that Ron had to see her about.

She stood at the giant fountain in The Atrium, the gold figures spouting water happily, and waited. He was fifteen minutes late but Ron wasn't exactly known for his punctuality.

"Sorry I'm late," he muttered, grinning.

"Hello, Ron, it's been a while. How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," he paused. "I'm starving though, are you?"

* * *

Something was definitely wrong.

Lunch was spread all across the table but Ron wasn't shovelling it into his mouth as fast as possible, trying to eliminate the time between his food and his stomach.

"Ron?" Hermione was genuinely worried. "Are you alright?"

"Hermione," he couldn't meet her eyes and it was a shock to Hermione.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything is okay."

"Then why-" she motioned towards his lunch that sat uneaten.

"What?"

"Never mind. What's going on, Ron?"

"I like someone."

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't to be consulted on love advice.

"That's wonderful, Ron," she laughed but abruptly stopped, signs of fear sliding onto her face. "It's not...me, is it?"

His face was ashen for a moment. "What? No!" His quick assertion was a little too quick but Hermione tried to ignore it.

"Then who have you got such a major crush on, then?"

"Well, I've only met her once. And I don't exactly know her name."

Hermione blinked a few times, trying to digest the new piece of information. "I'm sorry; you don't know who she is?"

"Well, I do," he was quick to clarify. "I know her hair colour, eye colour, rough height. I just don't know her name."

"Where did you meet her then?"

"At Oliver Wood's party last week." Hermione was about to say something but Ron cut her off. "I already asked him. He has no clue."

Ron plastered a depressingly wounded look on his face. "Hermione, you've got to help me find her. I think she may be the one."

"The one?" She rolled her eyes. "That's a bit far-fetched. Have you spoken to her?"

"I haven't quite gotten around to that either. I was about to when she left. I have to find out her name."

"So," Hermione paused for a moment. "What we have is a girl you haven't spoken to, you don't know her name, she attended one of Oliver Wood's awful parties and you're madly in love with her?"

Ron thought it over for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that sounds about right." He saw her expression. "Look, I know it sounds mental but will you help me?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course I will."

After all, everyone deserved a chance to prove themselves.

* * *

_Granger, just say yes, already._

Hermione grinned, clutched the letter in her hands and put the bouquet of roses on the windowsill.

Her quill was poised and the answer was written in seconds, printed neatly.

_Fine!

* * *

_

Draco Malfoy looked down at the scrap of parchment, her affirmation printed on it and smiled. Phase one was complete and after the countless flowers he'd sent, the notes he'd pestered her with and the calls he'd made to her Floo network, the result was finally favourable. She'd agreed, finally.

The feeling of elation did not last long.

When he told his mother of his conquest, her slight smirk was quite disappointing. He'd expected a beam, a smile and maybe even some encouraging words.

Instead, "finally," was all that she managed and he left the room with a declining sense of self worth and assertion. True, he was far too old for childish attempts to gain affection and whatnot from his mother but no doubt about it, a part of him, perhaps the child within that would not be suppressed, still held hope for his mother.

He left the room with high expectations and a strange sense of nerves.

He was nervous for this date.

The poor, unfortunate girl –she wouldn't know what hit her.

* * *

Hermione was at that stage just beyond nervous –her nerves were pouring out of her skin and dripping to the ground in unflattering heaps. Ginny could see it; she took one look at the nervous girl and floo-ed Lavender. The girl arrived less than three minutes later, laden with makeup and other beautifying products and set them down matter-of-factly on her couch, studying her lounge room.

"It's quite a nice house you've got here, Hermione."

Not that you've ever invited me into it, seemed to be the underlying thought and Lavender sniffed royally as Crookshanks prowled into the room.

"Thank you," Hermione replied, unsure of what she was doing in her house.

"Ginny called, telling me you were in desperate need of a makeover."

"Ginny said that, did she?" a look was thrown at Ginny who blushed apologetically.

The redhead laughed shakily. "I didn't use those particular words, I merely mentioned that-"

"The matter at hand-" Lavender hushed Ginny with a look. "-is clearly what Hermione will be wearing tonight. I understand you have a date with Draco Malfoy?"

The disdain in her voice was strangely refreshing. Normally, his name was spoken accompanied by a shuddering sigh or reverent hush but the obvious scorn in Lavender's voice brought a smile to Hermione's lips.

"So what?" Ginny said icily clearly not happy with being hushed. "Draco Malfoy is one of the most eligible bachelors of the wizarding society, I'll have you know."

"Just because it's called a rose doesn't always mean it smells sweet," Lavender said absentmindedly before picking up a stick of mascara from her bag.

"Now, the dress."

Hermione had spent many painstaking hours picking out the dress, unsure of what was acceptable and what wasn't –in the end, she settled on a cream chiffon dress, having grown tired of shopping. One look at it and Lavender sighed.

"It'll do, I suppose. We can add some accessories and make up but don't be expecting too much from me," she cast a look at Ginny. "I can't work miracles, you know."

Ginny's mouth hung open in shock as Lavender scooped up her heavy bag and moved towards Hermione's bedroom without a word, just another glance.

"Why would you ask her to come over?" Hermione hissed at Ginny.

"I don't know! I thought she knew more about things like this than I do!" Ginny whispered back. "I'm so sorry –I honestly really thought she could be of help and not turn into the Heinous Bitch of the North."

"It's okay, Gin; she does seem to know what she's doing after all."

They both entered her bedroom with tentative steps, unsure of what Lavender would be doing until they saw her rifling through Hermione's makeup drawer.

"But where's your toner? Your foundation?"

Hermione stared blankly back at her. "Toner?"

Lavender heaved a world weary sigh, conveying to the pair that it was clearly a huge pain in her behind to be doing this.

"It's okay, Lavender, you don't have to-" Hermione started before the woman cut her off.

"Toner is designed to cleanse the skin and shrink the pores so that optimum freshness can be achieved." She set Hermione on the bed, locating a brush from her bag. "Now, let's get started."

First, Lavender inspected her eyebrows, looking at her sympathetically.

"Your eyebrows need a little bit of work," her wand was produced and after a few taps a slight discomfort was felt in the general vicinity of her eyebrows. Makeup began to unpack itself from her bag; vials and stoppers and jars of makeup lined itself up neatly and Hermione eyed then with slight fear.

Just what was Lavender planning on doing to her?

* * *

In hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea to place Lavender in charge of Hermione's appearance for the night.

After the ordeal with Ron in Sixth Year (and especially what happened in the Hospital Wing), Lavender didn't exactly hold affectionate feelings for Hermione; no matter how many times she had tried to assert Lavender that there shouldn't be any more animosity between the pair.

However well Lavender tried to disguise it, rivalry was still there even though Hermione and Ron had parted ways amicably.

But admittedly, as Hermione studied herself in the mirror, the girl had come through, styling and beautifying away all afternoon.

"I look..." Hermione trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Gorgeous? Beautiful?" Ginny suggested evidently proud of herself for contacting Lavender.

Lavender sniffed again, trying to camouflage her evident pride. "Mediocre; at best."

But Hermione didn't feel mediocre –Ginny's grin was certainly indicative of awe.

"Hermione! Where have you been hiding those legs?"

Lavender had –under protest from Hermione– shortened her dress, added a few bracelets, earrings and strappy heels, smoothing out her frizzy hair and adding a light dusting of makeup.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione smiled.

Lavender packed up her things with a flick of her wand. "I've done my part," she managed a tight smile. "I supposed the rest is up to you."

Without a goodbye, she swept up her bag and strode out of the room. A moment later, Hermione and Ginny, still stunned by her brashness, heard her pronounce her address before the whoosh of the Floo escorted her home.

"What is up her arse?" Ginny giggled, spraying herself with some perfume.

Hermione shrugged, "Maybe she's just under stress."

Ginny stifled a smile. "Somehow, I doubt that. Unless being the biggest socialite around is suddenly strenuous."

Hermione decided to change the subject. "Are you sure I look okay? I mean, the skirt is a little short?"

"You look fine," Ginny asserted once again, rolling onto her stomach on Hermione's bed and prodding Crookshanks who'd been watching the pair. "Where are you going tonight, anyway?"

"He hasn't told me –just said he'd pick me up at seven."

Ginny blinked. "Okay, not to alarm you but it's five past."

Hermione gulped. "He's stood me up." She muttered darkly. "I should have known it was too good to be true –that'll teach me to trust a Malfoy."

"Hermione, I'm sure he's just running late. Besides, a man who sends you that many flowers can't possibly have dark intentions."

"You'd be surprised."

But before Hermione could intensify her hostility, there was a soft knock at her door.

"See?" Ginny smiled. "Now go and have a good time. I'll take care of Crookshanks."

Hermione sighed, relieved. "Thanks Ginny. For everything."

She left the room, picking up her small bag and making sure her hair was still tamed in the hallway mirror.

Sliding back the locks and lowering the wards, she tried to steady her nerves and her hands as she swung open the door.

"Draco," she smiled.

His cheeks echoed her smile. "Granger, it's good to see you. You look lovely."

It's just a polite compliment; don't read too much into it, Hermione.

"Thank you." She stepped out of the doorway, pulling the door shut behind her. "You don't look too bad yourself."

He offered his elbow, unnerving her with his manners but, after a slight reluctance, she took it.

"Where are we going tonight?"

His grin was deliciously wicked.

"Just you wait."

* * *

_Disclaimer: All characters don't belong to me. Please don't sue me._

_Hello again!_

_I guess I have to apologise once again for this late update. It's not my fault I leave absolutely everything to the last minute._

_Actually, now that I think about it, it probably is my fault._

_Sorry guys._

_Next one will be up sooner._

_(Hopefully)._

_Thanks to all those who've reviewed! _

_And thanks to those who WILL review, I know it._

_Take care ;)_

_Starky xx_


	4. Don't You Know? It's A Shame

**Chapter Three**

"_Baby, I'm a man and maybe I'm a lonely man who's in the middle of something that he doesn't really understand."_

_-Paul McCartney 'Maybe I'm Amazed'_

* * *

"Close your eyes," he told her, taking one of her hands in the quiet alleyway.

She looked amused for a moment before acquiescing, closing her eyes slowly, feeling the rough of his palms in hers with a shudder. "Alright, but I'll have you know, Malfoy, if you try something funny, you'll be dead on the ground before you even have a chance to-"

Her sentence was cut off as the feeling of side along apparition gripped her navel and spun her through space.

"You didn't give me any warning!" she accused him as soon as they landed and wrenched her hand out of his.

He shrugged. "You wouldn't stop threatening me."

"You could have splinched me!"

"Luckily you weren't," he grinned; his teeth pearly white. "Are you ready for the best date of your life?"

"Where are you taking me?" The small alleyway they were standing in wasn't incredibly promising if the smell was anything to go by.

"You'll see."

"Where are we?" her tone was accusatory, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Granger, if I had wanted you to befall any harm, wouldn't I have succeeded by now?" he raised both his eyebrows and smiled. "Now, come along."

"Don't talk to me like a child, Malfoy."

"Stop acting like a child, Granger."

"I am not," she muttered under her breath but followed him anyway, reaching for the wand tucked within a fold of her dress. "Malfoy, do I have to remind you that you are the one who pursued me relentlessly for this date? If you plan on wanting a second, for future reference, it might be the best idea not to enrage your date."

"Well, Granger, it might be useful to note that threatening the life of your date is not going to attract you an increase in future suitors."

Her huffy retort died in her throat as they exited the empty and pungent alleyway and onto the bustling streets of a city she was unfamiliar with.

"Where are we?"

"Oh?" She could almost feel the smirk of arrogance burnt onto his lips. "You mean to tell me that the Gryffindor Bookworm doesn't know something?"

"Shove off Malfoy, how could I possibly know where we are?"

"We in Italy. Rome to be precise," he filled in for her as they blended into the busy evening street.

"Why are we here?"

"I'm taking you to dinner."

She hated to admit it but she was impressed.

"I'll take your silence as an indication of your admiration and awe," he beamed as they wove through the crowd. Shoulders and arms pushed into her as the pair negotiated their way through the heavy human traffic. Hermione tried to keep up with Malfoy but his legs were longer and stronger so, to avoid losing the git to the crowd, Hermione gathered a handful of his dinner jacket and held on, not willing to skip out on the date just yet.

"So what is the story with you and the Weasel?"

"You mean Ron?"

Before he had a chance to reply, he felt a sharp tug on his jacket and a sudden release. He turned to find Hermione with one of her heels caught between the cobblestones on the street, furiously trying to pull it free.

Draco let out a laugh which earned him a glare.

"Are you just going to stand there and be useless?"

The ghost of a smile drifted across his lips but nevertheless, he moved closer to Hermione, bent down and wrapped his hand gently around her ankle, lifting it easily.

He straightened up and the moment was awkward as they looked everywhere but at each other. It felt too intimate, too close and Hermione's neck began to prick with the feeling of embarrassment. Draco was motionless, the feel of her smooth skin still burnt onto his palm.

"Shall we continue?" she said and gently prodded him from his reverie.

"Yes," he said, his voice thick with embarrassment and turned abruptly to continue down the street.

Hermione found a cloud of confusion descended on her but pushed it aside, asking once again, "Why are you so curious about me and Ron?"

"I'm not."

"This is the second time you've asked about him. Correct me if I'm mistaken but you've never inquired this vigorously about him when we were in school."

"I'm just humoured by him, that's all."

"Humoured?"

"Yes, the ginger ape is interesting to observe. A bit like a tourist attraction."

Hermione felt outrage bubble up her throat.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

He stopped walking and she halted beside him.

"What?" he asked, glancing down at her.

"I said," Hermione offered bravely. "That you haven't changed a bit since school. You're still the same conceited, judgmental little boy, aren't you?"

"Why change perfection? And you're as quick to judge as ever." He retorted.

"Excuse me? I aim to provide a high level of consideration and withhold all judgment from anyone that I meet until _after _I have met them."

"Oh really? That's not the story I heard about you and Trelawney."

Biting back a fierce reply, Hermione glowered. "You are mistaken."

"I'm never mistaken." He nodded and came to a stop outside a small shopfront, its awnings light blue and a sign announcing it as 'Giovanni's'.

"How lovely," Hermione mumbled, following Draco into the crowded restaurant. There was a small delay as Draco was greeted enthusiastically by the hostess as she noisily squealed her fervour at seeing Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy!" she gasped loudly, her cherry red lips parting into a perfect circle. "It's so nice to see you again!" Her arms were flung around his shoulders, her lips grazing both of his cheeks. "It has been too long."

Hermione looked away, a little embarrassed. So he's slept with her, it was obvious. Clearly she still harboured feelings for him but his distant demeanour suggested that the poor girl's feelings were destined to remain unreturned.

Hermione allowed herself a small feeling of triumph; the girl was taller than her and prettier, but no doubt Hermione was smarter and had help save the entire wizarding society. Now, Hermione had another attribute to add to her belt; she was on a date with Draco Malfoy; a man, admittedly, who was one of the most sought after in London.

And he was here with her, of all people, in Rome at this beautiful restaurant, about to sit down to a meal on their date.

A date! A date with _Draco Malfoy _of all people.

She permitted herself a slight smile of triumph as their waiter seated them, the woman standing at the doors giving her a curious glance.

"So, who is she?"

He cocked his head to the side. "Pardon?"

"Oh, it's useless playing coy with me. It's clear by her behaviour that you two have," she coughed, "History."

"History?" He took a sip of water. "Penelope and I don't have history."

"You call her by her first name and she calls you by your last. She's clearly very excited to see you and you can't even make eye contact with her. Tell me, was she another woman you've slept with who thought they could _change _you or someone who's blindsided into lusting after you by your last name?"

"None of the above."

Hermione was excited to notice a blush forming on the tips of his ears, slowly seeping into his cheeks.

"Then what is it?"

He coughed uncomfortably. "I'm not inclined to discuss that with you at the present moment."

She narrowed her eyes. "That bad?"

"Will you just order?"

She folded her hands in front of her, leaning her chin on them.

Oh dear Lord, Draco felt himself redden. Don't look down her dress. Or if you do, Gods man, don't make it obvious!

"I want to know what has the great Draco Malfoy in such a state of avoidance."

"It is of little importance. Can we order?" He clicked his fingers at their waiter who glided over immediately.

"Are you ready to order, sir?"

"Yes," he said with little hesitation. "I'll have my usual and the salmon for the lady accompanied by a nice '67 Merlot, I think."

Hermione frowned and after the waiter left, Malfoy turned to her.

"Is everything okay?"

"Please refrain from ordering for me in the future."

"I didn't-" He was stumped_. Try not to offend her anymore than you already have._ Changing tactics, he grinned. "Duly noted. Any other nuances we should get out of the way before this gets any further?"

The look of confusion on her face was enough fuel for him to continue.

"For example, I hate it when my tea is cold, I despise the colour orange and I secretly collect paintings of blackbirds." he winked.

"It's hardly a nuance. I prefer not to have a man think he can make my decisions for me, thank you."

She removed her chin from her hands. "And stop trying to change the subject. What is up with you and Miss. Italia?"

"I'd rather that information to be kept in the past –where it belongs."

Their wine was served, the waiter smiling at Hermione warmly.

"Oh come on, now you've piqued my interest! You must tell me."

"I might just save that gem of a story for another time."

He didn't want to gloat about her? He didn't even look too comfortable being in the same establishment as her. What exactly had transpired between them? And this date was, so far, quite boring that she found herself clinging to the relationship he wouldn't talk about simply for something to do.

"Evil twin sister?"

"No."

"Hated animals?"

"Not that I know of."

"Extra toes?"

"Definitely not. No, her body was very normal." For his part, he seemed quite entertained by her guessing.

"Her family didn't approve? Classic Romeo and Juliet type situation?"

He gave her a funny look. "Don't know who they are. Must be some funny Muggle thing? For the record, her parents adored me."

"Romeo and Juliet was a play by-" she glanced at his blank expression. "Never mind -was she secretly a man?"

"What? No!"

"A stripper you picked up from a street corner because you were lonely and then you fell in love with her?"

"What in the world is a stripper?"

"Okay, she had a terminal illness?"

"She looks fine to me."

She was still guessing by the time their food had arrived, her speculations nudging closer and closer to the line of ridiculousness.

"She was a mermaid, exchanged her tail for life on the land and decided that she liked it so much but could never be with you because you were both from different worlds."

"No." He took a bite of his usual; an extravagantly arranged platter of shellfish.

"You were both young and the only way you could communicate was through the mailbox at your lake house?"

"No," he smiled, taking a sip of wine.

Hermione took a bite of her salmon. "She volunteered to be your housekeeper but discovered your horrible secret; that your crazed wife lived in your attic?"

"What? What is that? Jane Eyre?"

She almost dropped her fork. "You know Jane Eyre?"

"Pansy had a copy of it back in Hogwarts. Read it for a laugh."

"A laugh?"

"Well, you know, to see how to Muggles lived and everything. Surprisingly well written."

"Interesting."

"What is?"

"That you would ever compliment anything to do with Muggles."

She wasn't about to tell him that she found the salmon absolutely delicious.

* * *

"Oh no."

What?

"What?"

Oh, shit.

"Oh, please no."

"What is it?"

Oh, Merlin.

"I think someone's stolen my wallet."

* * *

"That was the most embarrassing moment of my life."

"Oh, come on, we've humiliated you plenty of times at Hogwarts, that couldn't have been the most embarrassing."

"He threatened to make me wash dishes to clear my debt."

"Thankfully my wallet was still safely in my bag."

"Who has the gall to steal my wallet?"

"You were probably pick-pocketed on the way here. The street was very crowded and it's very easy to just slip your hand into a coat and…"

She stopped talking at the look on his face.

Shame? Was that shame? And mortification?

"Hey, there's nothing to be embarrassed about? I'm sure it happens a lot."

"You don't understand –the way everyone was staring. Assuming that I had made up the story. These Muggles here don't understand that I'm a Malfoy and I could pay for everyone's meals and then buy the restaurant if I wanted. But they all looked at me like I was some filth off the streets trying to swindle a free meal."

"Come on," she nudged him. "I'm sure they weren't thinking that."

"You were there. Don't spare my feelings."

They started moving down the street. Hermione felt the cool spring night breeze graze her shoulders and pulled her coat more firmly around her.

"Trust me; I'm very rarely inclined to spare your feelings."

"I can't believe you had to pay for our meal."

"It's really no problem."

"Well," he moved a little closer to her. "I will see to it that I compensate you generously."

"It's not an issue –forget about it, Malfoy."

"Alright, since you ask so nicely. Come on," he turned into an alleyway. The smell hit her first and she crinkled her nose.

"Why do you insist on taking me to these smelly alleyways?"

"Because apparating in front of Muggles attracts a lot of attention and paperwork from the Ministry. Here, take my hand."

She looked at his outstretched hand before taking it.

"Prepare yourself."

He was learning fast, Hermione smiled as she felt the tug of apparition.

* * *

Her landing wasn't as smooth as she would have liked it. Instead of gracefully floating towards the solid ground, she found herself stumbling headfirst, her body refusing to keep in coordination.

An arm wrapped around her waist kept her from losing her footing and dignity.

"Thanks," she blushed as he removed his hand, stepping slightly away from her.

"So where are we?"

He straightened his jacket, brushing the collar. "Take a wild guess, Granger," he smirked.

She started to venture towards the busy street bustling with men, women and children, the excitement highlighted by the music in the air.

"Where are we?" She asked again, loving the atmosphere.

"You know," Draco laughed, "Your guessing skills are quite lacking. The entire point is to-"

But Hermione was already moving into the street, her feet clicking along the cobblestones.

"Wait up," Draco walked after her, his longer legs an advantage. He leaned towards her ear, "We're in-"

"Barcelona," Hermione breathed, finishing for him. "You've brought me to Barcelona." She was in awe, no doubt. He'd brought her to one of the most fascinating and culturally rich cities. "What are we doing here?"

He grinned. "I thought we could go for a drink."

"A drink? You've brought me to Barcelona and you just to have a drink with me?"

He shrugged. "Well, of course –this place is renowned for its night life, you know?"

"Night life, yes. But bar scene?"

He winked. "You just wait for where I'm taking you." He tugged on her jacket lightly before turning her down a small alley.

"Why-" Hermione panted, following him. "Why do we have to take these little alleyways and shortcuts for? What's wrong with the open streets?"

"These are faster," he said, a few paces in front of her.

The alley narrowed, clotheslines dipping low and he descended a few stone steps.

Hermione was struggling with the cobbles and her shoes were really beginning to annoy her; how did women wear these? How did they effectively execute everyday tasks in these Towering Shoes of Doom?

"Hey," she panted, holding onto a wall and trying not to twist her ankle and kill herself, "Hey, you're walking too fast."

But he hadn't heard her, perhaps the noise of the bustling street was too loud and his concentration cut out all abilities to multitask.

She turned the corner she'd seen him whip around just a few moments ago and it was-

Empty?

Just where had he gone?

"Gosh," Hermione cursed under her breath. "This is just bollocks." Nevertheless, she pressed forward.

"Malfoy!"

His last name was called, the sound ringing loud and true, and he stopped. Too engrossed in his navigation, he'd accidentally walked too fast and lost Granger.

"Granger?" He yelled back, hoping he hadn't lost her too far back. "Hey, Granger, hurry up!" He began to retrace his steps, taking him back to a very angry Hermione Granger, holding onto the wall for stability.

He grinned sheepishly. "I guess I should slow down."

She glowered. "I guess so," she bit back, her tone sharp.

"Err, sorry," his grin was still in place. "Come on, Granger."

He pronounced her last name with a sly smirk, a raised eyebrow. Gently, he offered her his arm and she threw him a look before taking it. It's only because I need help, she thought, only because these shoes are a death trap and I want to make it out of here alive tonight.

Slowly, they began to move through the maze of streets before emerging out onto the cobblestone paved and lit streets of Barcelona. "Where are we going?" She finally found to ask.

"A little bar I like to frequent," he replied, letting himself smile a little.

She saw the corners of his lips curve upwards and found it contagious as she offered her own. "Is there another one of your conquests working there? I just want to prepare myself, you know, for the glare they'll send me."

He shook his head. "No."

"You still haven't told me about that girl back at the restaurant. What's the story there?"

"As I said, I'd rather not talk about it."

The pedestrians on the street sent Hermione a few strange looks as she guffawed loudly. "Oh come off it, Malfoy! I bet it wasn't even that bad."

"It wasn't bad. It was just messy. Now, here we are-"

They were standing in front of a small bar, neon lighting the entrance and the smell of frangipani in the air.

"What is this place?" Hermione beamed at Draco before walking in behind him.

"I used to come here when life in London got a little tedious. Reminds me to let loose, you know. Have some fun," he winked at her, smirking.

She swatted his arm playfully. "If anyone starts throwing bills at me, I tell you, I'm leaving."

They found a seat at the bar and Hermione crossed her legs daintily, realising her dress was showing quite a lot of leg. For his part, Malfoy didn't seem to notice.

He opened his mouth, about to order two drinks before he remembered that she liked to order for herself.

"What are you in the mood for?"

Her eyes found his. "Tequila," she pronounced, the atmosphere of the bar and the smell of the place making her feel a little wilder.

He grinned, showing his pearl white teeth. "Two tequila's," he said to the bartender with a nod.

He turned to her. "So Granger, tell me, what is someone so clever like yourself working in such a dead end job in the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? Is it to further your 'spew' thing?"

"It's S.P.E.W," she retorted with a frown. "And it's not a dead end job."

"My apologies but I must disagree. You're merely a paper pusher when major laws are overturned by your superiors –you don't really get a say do you?"

Instead of angering her, like he was sure he was about to, she sighed.

"I'm actually slowly working my way up. Where I want to be is the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Law enforcement? Well, if you've got your sights set on it, you'll be head in no time."

She found herself staring at him. It was probably the nicest thing he'd ever said to her.

"Thanks," she said, slightly confused.

Before anything else was said, their drinks were delivered and a slice of lemon placed next to it, the salt shaker passed down.

Hermione licked her hand, pouring the salt and picked up the little shot glass of white liquid. "To your wallet, Malfoy. May it be found and returned to you."

He grinned, doing the same.

"To my wallet." He raised his glass before downing the liquor at the same time as Hermione. Her eyes widened for a moment before she bit into her lemon when it was replaced with a content expression.

"Wow," she breathed. "I'd forgotten," she thought for a moment. "I'd forgotten what that was like."

He laughed and ordered another.

Soon, shot glasses were lined before them, lemon slices littering the bar top and Hermione was giggling.

"You know what though," she laughed. "I never thought someone like you would be working for the Department of Mysteries. I mean," she leaned in closer to him. "Are you good at keeping secrets?"

He blinked back, finding her giggling extremely humorous. "Secrets? I'm excellent at keeping secrets."

"Really now?" She raised an eyebrow. "Because I think contrary."

"If only there was a way for me to prove all this to you," he grinned.

"You're right," she started before she was interrupted by a loud exclaimed,

"Draco!"

They both swivelled in the direction of the voice to see Pansy Parkinson starting towards them, an intent look on her face.

"Draco! I thought it was you!"

He looked frantic for a moment, his eyes meeting Hermione's and he stood to greet Pansy. She laughed before pulling him into a hug.

"Draco!" her laugh was loud and Hermione found herself jealous of their intimacy. "It's been a while," she said, her hand still on his shoulder.

He nodded, his arms lingering near her waist. "When was the last time? Theo's wedding was it?"

"Too long!" Pansy laughed again before she noticed Hermione.

"Well, if it isn't Bookworm Granger herself," she laughed. Her tone was light, even flirtatious, and Hermione found herself floored by the girl's friendliness. "I haven't seen you in-"

"It's been a while," Hermione smiled, the alcohol stretching her grin wider than it should be. "How's things?" Her tone, although icy, was at least an attempted nicety. "I heard you and Zabini are engaged? I supposed congratulations are in order?"

Pansy laughed. "Merlin, is she drunk?" She elbowed him gently in the ribs. "You sly dog!" She laughed before leaning closer into Hermione.

"Want to know one of his secrets?" she giggled, jerking her thumb in his direction.

Hermione leaned towards her. "Sure," she said, her eyes lighting up slightly.

"Please don't," Draco groaned but Pansy was already whispering in her ear.

"He sleeps with a teddy bear. Hi s name is Professor Tickles."

Hermione's eyes widened and she choked out a laugh. "You're joking!"

"You're joking," Draco rolled his eyes, pulling Pansy's arm towards him. "Please stop."

She grinned, sticking out her tongue. "Come on, Draco, all in good fun!"

"Oi, Pansy!" Came the call from across the room. The brunette girl looked over at her friends waving her towards the exit.

"And, that's my cue to leave! You kids have fun now," with a wink at Hermione, a kiss on the cheek for Draco and a small wave, she was making her way towards the door.

They watched her leave, Draco annoyed and Hermione in awe. "She's different. She's nicer," Hermione commented. "It's-"

"Annoying."

"Refreshing." She corrected, a dirty look thrown.

He threw his eyes to the ceiling. "Whatever –she's not as fun as she used to be." Frowning at himself, he wasn't exactly sure why he was speaking so much, so many things he wanted to say just jumping out of his mouth at an alarming rate. "She's gone and gotten engaged and that's just sucked the fun out of her, hasn't it?"

"Marriage doesn't suck the fun out of people," Hermione threw back, frowning. "If anything, it creates new opportunities for-for-" her face was suddenly very hot, her eyes blurry and her head heavy. "Oh," she sighed, leaning her hand onto her head. "Oh, I think I need some fresh air," she stood, stumbling, forgetting her train of thought.

An arm was around her in an instant before a warm body was supporting her, helping her manoeuvre herself towards the cooler streets.

She grinned, taking in the night, breathing the fresh air into her lungs.

"This is perfection," she breathed with an exhale. "This is the best night ever!" She proclaimed, grinning into him. She looked to her side, his grin greeting her, and she leaned towards him, misjudging, and her face swam closer to his than intended.

"So, what's next?" She whispered, sliding an arm around his neck to anchor herself. Her heels were suddenly too high and she found herself unsteady. "I mean, as much as I love this place, I can't wait to see what's next." The surprise of different countries was exciting and her grin didn't wane.

He chuckled, quite liking the way her body felt against his, her warm breath on his neck and her eyes sparkling into his.

"How are you so sure there's more?"

"Come on, Malfoy, the you I know hardly does things by half. I know you have one last trick up your sleeve," she grinned, placing a mental reminder to herself never to wear shoes this high ever again.

"Fine fine, you've beat me down, Granger, I've one last destination in mind. Come on," he led her towards a darkened alley before covering her eyes and whispering a quiet "Ready?" in her ear.

She nodded and at the last moment, realised the dangers of apparating while intoxicated but before she could voice her worries, they were already there, safe, sound and in one complete piece.

"You could have splinched me," she glowered, accusing.

"But I didn't."

She frowned. "But you could have."

"You fail to realise that I didn't."

She narrowed her eyes and he sent her a grin, full of teasing challenge. She couldn't help her laughter escaping before untangling her arm from his hand, reaching up on tiptoes to gently push strands of his fringe into place.

"There," she grinned, sighing and smiling. "All better."

His handsome face broke into a smile, a gentle and kind one, and she cocked her head to the side –he'd never given her a smile like that before and as unnerving as it was, she also found it nice and flattering and found herself offering him a similar one of her own.

"Granger," he started but found himself unable to say anything further, unable to collect his thoughts, unable to do anything beside stare down at the girl looking up at him, a smile tugging on her lips that threatened to burst at any time and her eyes lighting up into his.

Yes? Her face seemed to question up at him and he smiled, a movement that lifted up the left side of his lips in an amused smirk.

"Come on," he finally managed, stepping backwards gently, breaking the moment. "And you can guess which city we're in."

Excitement bubbled and burst in her throat and she let forth a laugh, exiting the dark alley they'd apparated into. Lights and sounds reached her senses; the lights dim and romantic, the cars slow without rush, the people laughing and enjoying whatever was on offer.

She took it all in before turning to Draco, her face excited like a child stumbling upon a candy store.

"Paris!" She declared. "We're in Paris!"

He nodded slightly before moving beside her with another wide grin.

"Once again, Granger, your perceptiveness and deductive skills are amazing," he teased, holding out an arm to her. "Come on," he nudged her gently. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Her eyes were still bright, her excitement pooling, and her mouth eager. He'd brought her to the City of Love, she mused, this man, she hiccupped, had brought her to the most romantic city in the world. Certainly, he had no ill intentions towards her at this point? Otherwise would he go to all the trouble? Would he have put in the effort if he were just to discard her?

Doubt left her alcohol addled mind and she wasn't exactly sure what precisely had changed her mind of him; only that she wanted to go with the flow and for the moment, she was finding his presence quite enjoyable.

"You'll see," was all he offered her before she slid her hand into his arm, allowing him to gently lead her towards their unknown destination. "Not too far," he grinned as her feet refused to cooperate with her mind, stepping all over the place.

"I'm not usually like this," she mumbled. "It's been a while since my last alcohol experience, that's all."

He was quick to assure her, "Hey, hey, hey, Granger, it's me, Draco Malfoy –anything you can do, I can do better, including any alcohol induced experiences. Besides, I'm reserving judgement for tonight."

"Oh?" She gently turned her head to the side to observe him, their footsteps short and leisurely. "Reserving judgement? And why is that?"

"I've decided that judgement has been passed around enough," he grinned down at her, "Ever since that day," he took in a soft breath. "You know, the day of the Final Battle and everything –everyone looked at us like trash but no-one understood." He shook his head and bit out a sneering laugh.

"Understood?" She asked him, shocked by his sudden admission of information, by his openness in talking about that day. It'd been years and yet, it still replayed in her mind like it was yesterday, the smell of the rejoicing air, the sound of cheers and happiness resounding throughout the castle, the sight of love and relief and sheer gratitude for life permeating the grounds. It was something that she would remember for as long as she lived, she was sure –something that she would never be able to forget; the smell, sight, touch, taste and sound of complete triumph. But she'd never thought about it from the opposite end of the spectrum; of knowing you'd failed, of having life throw choices after choices that led to the eventual downfall.

"Is that what you want then? Understanding?"

He shook his head, a derisive laugh emanating forth. "Not anymore. Right now, I'd like nothing more than unassuming anonymity."

"You sound like a disgruntled celebrity," she grinned, giggling. Gosh, what was it about alcohol that seemed to bring out the most childish section of herself? Surely there was a way to stop this?

"I just want to atone for my mistakes and move on, is that hard?" His smile was hard, like his entire face hurt when it happened. "But people seem to have a hard time forgetting. Forgiving is easy when you know how to do it –it's the forgetting people have trouble with."

Sighing, she nodded in understanding. She'd never quite forgotten his teasing from school although she'd forgiven him quite some time ago.

"Is forgiveness important to you?" The question burst forth before she was able to register it in her mind. The fact that it was probably very intrusive question didn't seem to deter her from asking it. His silence lasted longer than comfort allowed and she found herself blushing, her neck, cheeks, and ears growing hot. With a sigh, she turned away from him, their pacing easy, her mind beginning to clear.

Finally, he spoke. "Does it seem strange to you that I possess a conscience?"

It was her turn to ponder. She thought about his question, mulled it over and thought the words multiple times in her mind. Did it seem odd that he had a conscience? Did it seem strange that he cared about forgiveness? With a horrible little twinge and a slight elevation of heart rate, she found the idea that he was positively human attractive. She winced. She pulled internal faces. She paused slightly. He was still waiting for her reply. She took a breath. Then another. She bit the side of her lip, the right bottom lip, let go and slid a sideways glance towards him.

"Not at all."

His face seemed to be disbelieving but for his part, he seemed to let it go for the time being. They had been walking alongside the river for some time now, Hermione deduced it was the Seine and she was mesmerised for a moment by the dancing lights atop the water, the rippled light and gentle. She smiled, hiding it with a turn of her head.

"Where are we going?" After the bustle of Barcelona, the quiet of Parisian roads at night was certainly welcome and she smiled, following his lead.

"Almost there."

True to his word, comfortable silence reigned for another few minutes before Draco slowed, reaching a set of stairs that led to a boat awaiting them at the shore. The water lapped at the concrete lining the side of the water and Hermione smiled, silently following him towards the small vessel awaiting them. She smiled as he offered a hand to help her into the boat –who would have known Malfoy would pull a move like this? He always seemed to surprise her.

"Confess," she said when they were seated. "You had help planning tonight, didn't you?"

"I did not!" He said –it was, after all, only half a lie. His mother had made helpful suggestions and he'd made all the arrangements. Draco grinned as the boat began to move, the singular man at the end of the small craft slowly beginning to steer the boat with soft paddles and slow strokes. For a moment, Draco's stomach made an uncomfortable lurch but he brushed it off; surely it was naught to worry about. He smiled, taking the chance the slightly move a little closer to her.

"So, Granger-" he started but before another word was uttered, he looked away, suddenly feeling the same lurch in his stomach again, only this time, much more intense. "Oh fuck," he swore softly, clutching his stomach.

Hermione, unaware of him for the time being marvelled at the night sky, the smell of the water, the soft sounds of trickling water beside her and she enjoyed the view and moment before she picked up on his swearing. She turned to him and was instantly greeted by his face, shocked and devoid of the vibrant colour tinging his cheeks only moments before.

"Are you alright?" She asked, placing a hand on his arm to turn him towards her.

"No, I'm not bleeding alright," he hissed as his stomach lurched again. "Must've been something I ate."

She looked to him worried before speaking to the driver to pull to the banks to let them off. "Come on, you feel like-"

Before she could finish, Draco had leaned over the side of the boat, emptying the contents of his stomach into the French river system. Hermione did her best to comfort him, running a hand up and down his back to steady his retching and she gave him a pat when he straightened again.

Draco felt embarrassed and stupid; throwing up in front of a girl? Not attractive by any means and he tried to avert his gaze from her imploring one.

"I'm fine," he said but nevertheless, he didn't shy away from her help out of the vessel. Muttering an embarrassed apology to the man, he let Hermione steer him towards a darkened alley to apparated the pair back to England.

"You probably just ate some shoddy seafood and now you've got mild food poisoning. Not to worry," she said, sliding an arm around his waist. "I probably have something sitting around for this kind of thing –come on," she moved into the dark alley. "We'll have you feeling better in no time."

He hated that she had to take care of him like an invalid but followed her. She sent him a nod before she apparated him. Landing with a slight thud, he was in an unfamiliar room and even amidst the unsettlement in his abdomen, he smirked.

"You'd think they'd pay you more there at the Ministry."

Hermione sent him a sharp glare deciding to ignore him before moving towards her bathroom. She rummaged about in her cabinet before finding what she was looking for. There, she thought with triumph before taking it back to the lounge room. She returned to Draco atop her couch, Crookshanks observing him, swishing his tail.

Draco pointed at the cat. "You still have that mangy orange thing?"

Hermione glared. "You're in my house and I'm the only one who can help you right now, are you sure you want to be throwing insults?"

Draco shut his mouth and took the offered vial. The effects were almost immediate –his stomach cleared its internal upset and he breathed easy again yet finding himself suddenly very drowsy.

Hermione noticed his drooping eyes and chewed her lip. "Oh dear, I wasn't sure of the effects of this potions mixed with alcohol. Will you be alright to apparate home?" Even as she said it, she was sure he'd be plenty unfit to operate a door let alone getting himself home safely. "Don't worry," she mumbled as he slumped in onto the couch.

Draco was vaguely aware of Hermione moving closer to him and as he tried to keep his mind clear and focused, in vain, sleep was beginning to cloud over and he found little comfort on her couch yet it was probably the best he was going to get for the time being.

"Granger," he said, catching her wrist in his hand. "Come here," he tugged gently.

Hermione, sobered up a bit since the European jaunt, moved to kneel beside him. "What is it?" She said, slightly concerned.

Draco watched her and moved his head slightly towards her, his lips parting.

Perhaps this wasn't to be the worst date ever after all.

* * *

_Erm. I realise it's been nine months since I've updated this._

_I'm sorry?_

_Thanks for reading if you haven't forgotten about this already! And thanks to all those who reviews the last chapter!_

_Until next time; enjoy!_

_-Starky_


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